Of Pools and Pranks
by Chrisii
Summary: "It's just a day by the pool Enj, what could go wrong?" Where Enjolras is concerned, things don't go wrong, they go down, deep into the waters until the blue abyss swallowed them whole. In which a prank goes wrong and Enjolras ends up drowning right under their noses. Question is, will they realise in time to save him? Or will the guilt of having murdered a friend eat them alive?


"No." Enjolras was absolutely firm in his answer. There was no swaying him from this, not even if his biggest idol was standing right there. He closed his eyes, thumb and forefinger pressing into his eyelids in frustration. He would not go swimming with his friends, even if it was just in a pool. Like Joly would ever go to the beach.

"Do you know how many people poop while swimming? AIDS is probably swimming in those seas!" The hypochondriac had said, his tone indignant, as if the proposal had personally offended him.

Enjolras couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, remembering the scene just before he opened his eyes again, only to be met with a frowning Combeferre and a pouting Courfeyrac, both determined to get him out of his stuffy apartment and enjoy the sun while it was out.

"Enj, it's not healthy to stay inside reading and writing all the time, you need to get some fresh air! Right 'Ferre?" Courfeyrac was downright whining, dead-set on getting his too-pale friend out of there.  
"I watch TV as well you know." Enjolras rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "And the window is always open, so I do get fresh air."  
"Come on Enjy, exams are over, loosen up a little and take a day off! You've been cooped up here ever since we mentioned going to the pool, even though you know we won't let you pass this opportunity, no matter how much you run away from us." Combeferre was patient. To anyone who didn't know him, he appeared to be only lounging on the sofa, relaxed with a beer in his hand, but Enjolras could see the determination etched in every fibre of the doctor's being.  
"I'm not in the mood for swimming." Enjolras was resolute, barely keeping back a pout just for the sake of his dignity.  
"Then just sit on the deckchair! But at least you soak up some Vitamin D from our dear friend, the sun!" Courfeyrac leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees after having thrown his hands up in the air.  
"Drama queen. I get enough sun on my roof." Enjolras barely even finished the sentence.  
"You don't even have a roof." Combeferre called out the obvious lie, making the youngest one of them blush in embarrassment.  
"My terrace then, dear 'Ferre." Enjolras could see that there was no way out of this, he wouldn't be able to get out of this outing even if he told them he'd die before touching the pool.  
"You do know that if you don't come willingly we'll just convince Joly to knock you out for a while and take you to the pool, don't you?" Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow, an aura of cockiness surrounding the playful man.  
"Joly wouldn't do that, too many possible side-effects." Enjolras smirked, but even he wasn't sure of what he had just said.  
"He would, getting you out is more important." Combeferre shrugged, and Enjolras sighed in resignation.  
"Fine, I'll come, but I'm not going to swim, not a chance in hell." Although he sounded fed up of them, Combeferre smirked as he caught the fondness in Enjolras' expression when Courfeyrac whooped in pleasure, immediately whipping out his phone to tell the others that their mission was accomplished.  
"It's just a day by the pool Enj, what could go wrong?" Combeferre slung his arm around Enjolras' shoulders, squeezing the younger blond to his side before standing up, ruffling the golden curls in the process.

Many things could go wrong, Enjolras wanted to respond, but held back, instead frowning as his curls fell around his face in a deranged halo of sorts. This time, there was no holding back the pout at the use of the nickname he hated so much. Now he definitely couldn't get out of it, unless he woke up with a raging fever on that very day… The thought was almost pleasing. Anything to not go by the liquid he detested so much. However, hearing his friends chatter excitedly on everything they had planned for that day, Enjolras decided to relax a bit, enjoy their presence and just attempt to at least look forward to the much dreaded day. But then again, Combeferre was right.. What could go wrong if he just sat reading on a deckchair?

* * *

On the bright, Friday morning, Enjolras felt like death. He was not sick, yet fear was gnawing at his insides, and there was a slight tremor in his hands as he grabbed a bag and jammed a towel inside, along with sun-lotion, a book, his wallet and keys, a bottle of water and a small snack. After making sure that he had not forgotten anything, Enjolras poured himself a cup of coffee, at least filling his stomach with the dark liquid. He was surely not eating anything, not when he felt as if everything was coming right back up again.

He should not have accepted, he should just call Combeferre, tell him to not pick him up, because he wasn't going to endure a day such as this. His best friend would understand, right? Granted, no one knew of his fear of drowning, and Enjolras didn't ever plan on telling them. It was a childish fear, irrational. It was a weakness. Surely, Grantaire would laugh at him, so would the others. They would make a joke out of him, humiliate him for sure. Enjolras sighed, pulling at his golden curls as he collapsed on the couch. Hs red trunks almost camouflaged against the sofa, and the t-shirt felt restrictive in the hot day. On one hand, the pool seemed like a good idea to cool down, escape the smothering heat, but then again, he could just turn on his air conditioner and be done with it. With that thought, he once again trekked to his kitchen, leaving the empty mug in the sink before taking out a glass of water from the fridge and downing the cool liquid.

Just as he was about to call Combeferre and be done with it, Enjolras heard the much dreaded knock, and the call of his supposedly best-friends echoed inside the apartment.

"Come on Enjy, we know you're in there!" Courfeyrac's voice, as usual full of laughter, sounded distant.  
"Just come in!" Enjolras inwardly applauded himself at succeeding in keeping his voice steady, and even managed to stop the shakes that had taken over his hands.

He had given 'Ferre a key a while back, knowing that his friend dropped by more often than not, and Enjolras was getting tired of always stopping mid-work to open the door. He was resolute in the idea when Combeferre had once arrived while Enjolras was washing. Needless to say, the blond was not pleased at having been interrupted while washing his hair, and even less when Combeferre had almost given himself a stroke laughing at the state of the damp, dishevelled locks.

"Enjolras? Are you okay? You seem pale." Combeferre's hands were suddenly on his shoulders, forcing him to sit on the couch yet again and looking intently for any symptoms, one hand raising to track the pulse that throbbed in his neck.  
"Did you sleep?" Courfeyrac's own hand rested on the blond's locks, brushing the unruly hair out of Enjolras' face.  
"Yes, I did sleep, and I'm fine, stop fretting." Enjolras slapped their hands away, shaking his head at their concern as he stood up, yawning in the process. "And I'm always pale 'Ferre, it's called complexion."  
"Let's go idiot, we're late." Combeferre sighed, suppressing a chuckle as Courfeyrac threw a hand over Enjolras' shoulder, leading the blond to the car before Enjolras changed his mind about coming.

On the way there, Enjolras couldn't help but be drawn in their antics, worries momentarily forgotten as he joined his two best friends in singing along with the Disney songs that Courfeyrac was blasting on the speakers. Despite not being trained, they were all decent singers, and laughter sounded from nearby as they heard the synchronized teens. Enjolras was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes when they arrived, and dread filled his stomach once again. At least no children were present, given that it was a school day, and the pool was nearly empty, only a few families relaxing in the hot day. Their friends were already there, readying an area with a deck chair for each of them.

Joly seemed to be staring at the pool, as if judging the number of germs in it as Musichetta rubbed sun-block on his back, Bossuet doing her back at the same moment. It seemed like second nature as Joly turned to do Bousset's own back before the three of them jumped in the cool waters, spraying everybody as the water was viciously disturbed. Feuilly and Jehan were applying sun block on each other before they too, escaped the heat in one quick leap, shrieks echoing in the air. Grantaire was gently rubbing Eponine's shoulders, his own back gleaming white in the sunlight. Seconds later, they were gone as well. Cosette and Marius were in a deckchair all on their own, talking quietly as they too, smothered sunblock on themselves before elegantly sitting on the edge of the pool and sliding in the waters. Bahorel had jumped while Enjolras was busy removing his shirt, allowing Combeferre to massage the lotion into his bare back. He was aware that his friend could probably feel the tension in his muscles, but 'Ferre wisely didn't comment on it, instead making sure that Enjolras wouldn't burn and then turned, presenting his own broad back to the blond.

Once everyone except Enjolras was in the water, the blond stretched out on the deck chair, a huge umbrella keeping him in the shade as he opened his book, amusement clear in his eyes when he heard the collective groans from his so called friends.

"Come on Enj!" The chorus echoed in the air, the tone of annoyance easy to decipher.  
"Forget it!" Enjolras called back, subtly showing them the finger against the book's cover as he resumed reading, the political book easily capturing his attention.

His friend's laughter reached his ears, and Enjolras couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips as he put down the book, turning on the deck chair so that he was laying on his stomach and facing the pool, his phone in hand. The umbrella was not enough to reach the edge of the deck-chair, and the blond felt the hot rays warm his mop of hair as he snapped a few pictures of his friends, going as far as to capture a few videos of them climbing on each other's shoulders and then toppling backwards into the waters. All the while, a steady stream of begs came his way, trying to convince him to take a dip in the waters. He ignored them, focusing instead on the screen before he lay his head down on his crossed arms, the sun making him feel woozy.

* * *

Bahorel couldn't help but gape as his eyes fell on Enjolras. The blond was completely stretched out on the deck chair, one hand pillowing his face while the other dangled over the edge, fingers barely brushing the ground. The golden curls gleamed in the sunlight, and even from the distance Bahorel could see that Enjolras' eyes were shut, his back rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

"Hey 'Ferre, has a girl been keeping him awake?" Although a grin was pulling at his lips, everyone could detect the tone of worry under the humour, and they all simultaneously turned to the blond in question.  
"He said he'd been sleeping, although he seemed pale this morning." Combeferre's brow furrowed slightly.  
"Maybe he's come down with a deadly illness that..." Joly started off, already preparing to high tail it away from the pool.  
"He's just asleep Joly." Musichetta, bless her, stopped his rant before it even started, idly pulling the lilo that Cosette rested on closer to her and Eponine, the girls all huddled and giggling together on God knows what.  
"Well, we'll see about this." Bahorel deftly climbed out of the pool and quietly made his way next to the slumbering blond, dripping water everywhere in the process.

* * *

Enjolras wasn't aware he had drifted off until he felt someone gently turn him over, rough hands softly tapping his face. He easily recognized the rough fingertips as Bahorel's, and just as easily willed his breath to remain even, his face completely expressionless. Maybe then the clown of the group would leave him alone. He had no doubt that if he opened his eyes, this would turn into another round of trying to get him into the water, and with their complete ease around each other, Enjolras was sure they would find no problem with manhandling him into the much dreaded liquid. But they wouldn't do that if he was sleeping, right? They wouldn't be so heartless. Obviously.

His mental tirade was cut short when hands suddenly snaked underneath him, lifting his utterly limp frame against someone's chest. Blue eyes flew open, closing tightly again as the sun burned them before he started wriggling, trying in vain to get his lanky frame out of Bahorel's hands.

"Let me go Bahorel!" His indignant shout fell on deaf ears, and Enjolras attempted to kick and scratch at his captor, all in vain as the brunette only laughed at his poor attempts to get away.  
"Cosette! Get the lilo near the edge will you?" The blonde girl seemed torn between loyalty to Enjolras and the desire to get him in the water, but soon enough slipped gracefully in the water and brought it near the edge, its surface glittering with water.  
"Bahorel don't you dare! Let me be!" A series of profanities surprised even Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who were keeping the lilo steady so that it wouldn't drift out.

Enjolras seemed to give up, conscious of the attention that the group was drawing to itself. He was humiliated, and let himself become completely lax, making it easier for Bahorel to walk the remaining distance and deposit the blond on the floating mattress.

As soon as he felt the cold surface against his back Enjolras shot up, attempting to get back onto solid ground while the lilo was still close to the edge. However, Courfeyrac had already pulled one corner away and the lilo was slippery, and had it not been for Joly, Jehan, Marius and even Feuilly, the blond almost cracked his skull open on the edge of the pool. A chorus of shouts rose up, begging Enjolras to be careful and stop moving about. The others held the lilo steady, waiting for Enjolras to settle completely. The blond lay tensely on his stomach, one arm in the water and the other pillowing his head, similar to how he had been laying on the deck chair before Bahorel oh so kindly decided to dump him on this mattress.

"Enjolras? Take a breath, you're as pale as sheet." Combeferre's hand was reassuring on his back, a tinge of worry colouring his tone. "And it's not just your complexion." He then added as an afterthought.  
"Pale? The sun transformed him into a tomato!" Grantaire spoke up from near Enjolras' feet.  
"Underneath the sunburn. Didn't you apply sun-block to your face Enj?" Combeferre frowned at his friend, who seemed utterly boneless on the lilo.  
"I'm fine 'Ferre, just not in the mood to swim." Enjolras sighed, fear clawing at his stomach as Courfeyrac pulled him out to the deep end, stopping only when the group was in the deepest part of the pool. The blond looked around, his eyes unconsciously widening when he caught sight of the depth sign.

5m.

There was five metres of liquid underneath him. Five metres of death. Enjolras felt his own chest constrict as he looked over the edge of the lilo, his heart ceasing to beat when he noticed that he could not see the bottom of the pool. What if there was something there? What if one of them got tired of swimming and couldn't float? His rational mind told him that someone would support whoever got tired, getting them safely to land, but his panic overruled any rationality.

A cascade of freezing water on his back brought him out of his thoughts, and he shivered, unconsciously jolting and almost misbalancing as goose bumps littered his visible skin.

"Stop thinking for five minutes Enjy. Enjoy yourself for once!" Bossuet splashed a bit of water in Enjolras' face, successfully knocking the blond out of his reverie.  
"I was enjoying myself perfectly well on the deck chair." Enjolras couldn't help but quip.  
"Please, you'll enjoy yourself more with us." Surprisingly, it was Marius that spoke up, a grin creasing the sides of his eyes.  
"Is Marius finally cracking his shell?" The dramatic exclaim came from Feuilly, a laugh chasing the end of the rhetoric question.  
"Looks like he's not as shy as he pretends to be!"  
"You broke delicate Marius!"  
"I didn't break him!"  
"Doesn't matter, he has Cosette to fix him again in the darkness of their bedroom!"

The playful banter continued, and Enjolras couldn't help but be drawn into it as usual, their delightful laughter filling the air. However, their jokes were apparently too dirty for the girls, who went a small distance away to talk by themselves. Girly stuff, everyone assumed. Although he was still petrified, the fear was for now pushed far back into his mind, shadowed by the happiness that came from being surrounded by his friends. Combeferre and Courfeyrac were right, he did need this. Not that he would ever tell them. The fresh air was doing wonders in relaxing him, the usual tension melting away and leaving him half asleep. The sun wasn't helping his drowsiness, beating down relentlessly on his moist back. The gentle rocking of the water was utterly soothing, and so was Grantaire's hand on his messy locks. Despite them not being close friends, the blond didn't find it so weird. After all, the whole group was pretty physical with each other, and it was comforting to feel the fingers that gently scratched his scalp, pulling at the tangles and messing up his hair even more than usual.

Enjolras let the banter wash over him, knowing that he was safe while surrounded with his friends, and didn't even try to fight when his eyes fluttered close, leaving him in a peaceful state between awake and asleep.

* * *

Grantaire shook with laughter, his messy black curls plastered to his forehead with water. The pool was cool when compared to the sun beating down on them, and he had no idea how Enjolras was comfortable. Combeferre, Joly and Courfeyrac had swam away for a bit, claiming that they wanted to regain some mobility instead of floating in one place all the time, and left Enjolras under their care, although the blond had not even reacted.

While the others continued on with their banter, Grantaire turned to Enjolras, who seemed to be half asleep on the lilo, his mouth slightly opened and blue eyes softly closed. He coughed, getting the attention of the others before he trailed his hand down the blond's bare back, watching for any reactions. Enjolras didn't do anything except for flinch a bit, his eyes opening a fraction. However, when he saw it was only Grantaire, his eyes fluttered close again, and the drunkard saw his chance.

The others smothered chuckles as Grantaire raised his hand, palm wide open, before bringing it down on Enjolras' ass. The smack echoed in the air, and they all burst out laughing as Enjolras downright yelped, startling so bad that he toppled sideways, managing to flip the lilo over his head at the same time. His scream was swallowed by the water, cut off before it even started, and Grantaire saw the blond give a weak stroke, as if attempting to swim, before he went under.

They all laughed, tears gathering at the edge of their eyes at how quickly Enjolras had jumped, and consequence of this no one noticed the blond struggling underneath the water, the air bubbles having stopped rising to the top of the water only a few seconds after he had gone under.

* * *

"'Ferre? What is troubling you?" Courfeyrac got straight to the point once the three of them were completely cut off from the rest of the group, wading in a secluded part all on their own.

"Yeah, why did you pull us aside?" Joly pulled a face before resting his hand against the edge of the pool, giving a little break to his legs as he kept himself afloat by holding on.  
"Enjolras seems off." Combeferre was frowning, clearly worried about his best friend.  
"I think he's just tired 'Ferre, he is only falling asleep." Joly reassured his friend in return, laying an open palm on Combeferre's shoulder.  
"No, he has been jumpy ever since we got him to agree with coming to the pool, and when Bahorel put him on the lilo he seemed downright petrified, I could have sworn he stopped breathing for a while there Joly." Combeferre sighed, cursing the fact that Enjolras was difficult to deal with in those situations.  
"He never told us he is scared of drowning or that he doesn't know how to swim though, so maybe he was scared because he hadn't fully woken up yet and couldn't comprehend what was going on?" Courfeyrac suddenly sobered, worry blossoming in his chest as well.  
"That's the thing, it's typical of Enjolras to hide fears such as a fear of swimming, or drowning more likely, so I wouldn't put it past him to be hiding it." Combeferre groaned, cursing himself for not talking to Enjolras alone.  
"He did seem a bit tense on the lilo, come to think of it." Joly shrugged, concern apparent in his eyes as well.  
"Come on, we'll get him back on dry land and talk to him, maybe weasel out if he is scared of drowning or not." Courfeyrac shrugged, providing what sounded like an easy solution, even though they all knew that getting that information was as easy as putting Joly in a room full of plague infected victims and expect him to cuddle with them. Okay, maybe not that much, but still, you get the point.

Suddenly, loud guffaws of laughter along with a quiet splash reached their ears, and they all turned to see the lilo upturned, no sign of Enjolras anywhere. Panic suddenly clouded Combeferre's mind. Did Enjy even know how to swim? Was he being kept afloat by someone else? But they would surely notice that Enjolras had not come up, wouldn't they? He was safe. However, Combeferre couldn't help but hurriedly swim back to his friend, his heart stopping when he realized that even though the others were still laughing, there was no sign of the blond anywhere.

"Where's Enjolras?" Maybe it was just a prank, maybe Enjolras was just behind one of them and Combeferre couldn't see him.  
"Didn't he surface?" Marius' soft tone was filled with fear, blue eyes wide.  
"I thought he swam somewhere else, I felt him kick me just a few seconds after he went down." Grantaire turned around, skimming the whole pool for the familiar mop of curls.  
"Did we just let a friend drown under our noses?" Feuilly whispered, seeming mortified as he stared at the waters where the lilo was still floating.

Combeferre didn't wait for anything else to be said. Now fearing for the life of his best friend, he took a deep breath and dove, his powerful kicks propelling him downwards. The chlorine stung at his eyes and he couldn't see anything but blurry shapes as his lungs burned for air. He went deeper, fully intent on finding Enjolras and making sure that the blond had not accidently killed himself. Just as he was about to surface again, Combeferre caught a hint of blond in the inky blues, and then the bright red of Enjolras' swimming suit made itself known. Almost sighing in relief, the conscious male grabbed his friend's forearm, kicking against the very floor of the pool in order to gather momentum and bring the blond to the surface as soon as possible. Enjolras' mouth was open, no air bubbles escaping as his blond hair floated around him, creating an eerie halo of some sorts. He looked truly like an angel made of marble. Combeferre shook his head, fully focusing on breaking the surface. Once he did so, he pulled in a huge breath, coughing out the little water he had swallowed.

The group had already headed inland, fully prepared to help get Enjolras back to dry land as soon as possible. Combeferre completely stilled when Enjolras didn't pull in a breath once they broke the surface. He remained completely limp in Ferre's hold, blue lips slightly parted, but allowing no air to pass in his lungs. Now filled with an even bigger sense of urgency, Combeferre turned so that Enjolras' head was on his shoulder, and quickly paddled backwards in order to reach his friends. Once he was close enough, 6 pair of hands grabbed the motionless form of their friend, gently laying the blond on the ground.

In the few seconds that Combeferre took to climb from the pool and fall onto his knees next to Enjolras, Joly already had his hand pressed against the soft skin under Enjy's jaw, the other held steady under the blond's nose. After a while, the doctor's whole demeanour changed, face pinching into a frown as he pulled back Enjolras' head, all the while forcefully opening the blond's jaw and checking to see that nothing was obscuring the airways.

"Combeferre, compressions, now." The tense order pulled the blond from his shock, and Combeferre promptly laced his hands together, pushing down on his friend's too still chest.

* * *

Grantaire felt faint. He couldn't recall the last moment that he had felt as horrible as he felt now. Watching Combeferre nearly crying as he pounded on Enjolras' chest and Joly counting the compressions as he delivered rescue breaths made his head swim. They were all desperate to get Enjolras to cough up the water that currently resided in his lungs, killing him slowly under their very noses. All because he couldn't suppress the urge to slap his Apollo.. Apollo.. The name of a God, Enjolras was like a God, so he couldn't die, could he? He was supposed to be immortal, his heart should never cease to beat beneath that smooth, pale skin.

They had always joked on Enjolras being pale, but now, his skin was near translucent, the lack of colour brought out more starkly because of his sun-kissed cheeks. His lips, usually full and rosy red, just tempting everyone to kiss them, had also lost their colour, even tinting blue near the edges. Obviously, he was utterly soaked, the droplets of water creating a puddle on the floor, but no one cared about that. His hair was spread out around his head, the blond curls lying flat and creating a halo around his head. He seemed truly angelic. God-like.

He was dimly aware of Eponine pulling at his arm, trying to jar him out of his shocked state, but to no avail. He only had eyes for Enjolras; the blond laying completely still. Of course, his body jerked in time with Combeferre's compressions, but other than that, he laid as limp as a ragdoll. His hands, usually always in motion, were completely and utterly limp, fingers weakly curled as if in his final moments he had attempted to grasp life itself. He had attempted to grab something to keep himself afloat, Grantaire's mind supplied, making him feel even more dreadful. Enjolras had been reaching for help and Grantaire didn't give it because he had been too busy laughing. And now the blond could very well die. He was dead. His heart wasn't beating, he wasn't breathing, it was all too real and too out of this world at the same time. The CPR wasn't working, it was only serving to nearly break the blond's ribs. Bruises were already forming beneath Combeferre's hands, but still Joly encouraged him on, saying that a few bruises would mean nothing if Enjolras was alive and breathing and actually feeling the pain of the bruise. Grantaire had to give credit to the doctor for keeping his head. Courfeyrac had long since lost it, curled around Bossuet and Jehan and openly crying his eyes out.

Then, Enjolras' whole body jerked in a totally surreal way and the two doctors turned him on his side, holding him steady as the blond weakly coughed out the pool water, tears mixing with the droplets of water on his face. The gagging sound he made pulled at all their heart strings before he threw up, the puddle of water growing larger and larger. It was as if the blond had swallowed half the pool while drowning. It took him a while to stop vomiting, and then ceasing the dry-heaves. Enjolras was crying, sobs making their way out of his thoroughly abused throat as Joly sat him up, one hand rubbing comforting circles on the blond's back as Combeferre attempted to calm down a clearly hysteric Enjolras. From his position, Grantaire could see the blond's back muscles quivering with the simple effort of breathing, breaking off to cough harshly a couple of times as his lungs attempted to clear themselves of the poisonous liquid. Combeferre held the panicky youngster in his arms, Enjolras' forehead pressed against 'Ferre's shoulder as the older one mumbled soothing none-sense in the blond's ears. Joly stepped back, letting Courfeyrac take his place, the dark-haired male curling around Enjolras' back, effectively covering him from view as the blond was sandwiched between his two best-friends.

One part of him itched to go comfort the blond, but the other part, the self-destructive, always-blame-yourself-part, kept him back. Maybe Enjolras hated him… Grantaire had killed him after all, maybe he wouldn't wish to see him again, and he would find himself without friends once again. He had fooled himself in believing that he had found a group with the Les Amis, that they would never abandon him. But clearly they would prefer Enjolras over him, his charisma and that perfect hair and just his ability to lead the group seemingly without effort... obviously Grantaire could kiss this group goodbye. Sure, he had fooled himself… But then again one cannot help but believe when in Enjolras' presence. The blond's optimism and enthusiasm was simply rubbing off on him, even if he still mocked the blond for it.

By now, they were all quite the sight. Eponine and Grantaire were clinging to each other, same as Marius and Cosette, and all the others had gathered in one pile, all touching each other in some way, watching the blond just breathe. It was all a rather touching moment.

"What is this mess?" The yell came from the side, and Grantaire saw Combeferre tense, every muscle bunching together before he gently released Enjolras, petting his hair in a brotherly, affectionate way before standing up and facing the employee.

"This mess? This mess is because you are too incompetent to have life-guards stationed near the deep-ends of the pool, and because of that my friend drowned, and we had to revive him. We had to thump on his lifeless chest, pushing past the fear that our best friend, the light in our group, will never wake up again, all because we decided to come here instead of hang out as we usually do. He isn't a stranger. We had to perform mouth-to-mouth, praying that we were in time to save him, so excuse us for not having the mind to towel ourselves dry first! We were a little too concerned on you know, the fact that our best friend was dead!" Combeferre was shaking, rage and shock clearly taking over any rational thoughts. It frightened his friends, who had only ever seen the calm side of 'Ferre, or only as far as frustrated, but never this angry. Exasperated with Enjolras for not taking care of himself? Sure. But never this pissed off.

Judging by the sudden paleness of the employee, he was also petrified by the blond. The tension hung in the air, creating an uncomfortable bubble as the man struggled for words, his mouth opening and closing like that of a fish. Combeferre didn't seem to care. He seemed very close to punching the manager in fact, but immediately calmed when he felt a gentle hand on his bare shoulder. Enjolras had stood up, and albeit a bit shaky on his feet, he seemed to handle the situation very well, using Combeferre's concern as a weapon.

"It's fine 'Ferre, let him be, he's just doing his job. I'm fine now, no need to fret." He was clearly not fine, if the little gasps in the middle of the sentence were any indication, but it sure had its desired effect. Combeferre completely turned, seizing Enjolras' elbows and stirring him back to the deck chair, where Joly immediately pressed his ear to the blond's back, intently listening to his lungs. Enjolras didn't fidget, letting the doctor do as he pleased. That in itself was enough to worry the others.  
"We need to get him in a bed, his body's exhausted. With this rate he's gonna shut down and collapse." The doctor ruffled the blond curls, speaking low enough so that Enjolras didn't hear him.

Eponine, Cosette, and Musichetta immediately took the task in towelling the tired blond dry, even though he tried to object. They refused, holding the towel out of his reach before he gave up, allowing them to gently pat him dry, before they slid the shirt on him and Cosette took it upon herself to dry the blond curls, leaving him with damp and dishevelled hair in return. He offered a weak, yet friendly glare, a small smile pulling at his lips as the petite blond grinned in return, twirling a lock around her fingers.

"I'm sorry, is there anything I can do?" The employee seemed to have regained his ability to talk.  
"Get out of here before he kills you." Bahorel immediately suggested, his eyes dark.

Combeferre didn't even react, busy packing all of their belongings in separate bags. Courfeyrac had sat down next to Enjolras, one hand encircling the blond's wrist in what seemed as a casual position. But Grantaire saw it for what it was. Courfeyrac was comforting himself by feeling Enjy's pulse. Enjolras didn't seem to mind, only tipping sideways so that he was resting against Courfeyrac's chest. Grantaire caught the shiver that wrecked the blond's frame.

"Joly? Should we take him to a hospital? He isn't usually this open and touchy in public." Courfeyrac was worried, one hand still monitoring his friend's pulse while using the other to pass his fingers through Enjolras' locks.  
"We'll take him to mine, I have enough supplies to watch over him, I'll tell you later which symptoms to look out for to be on the safe side." Joly was about to shoulder Musichetta's bag before Bossuet took it from him, shouldering all three of their bags.  
"Joly will you ride with us? Or is he okay for now?" Combeferre was worried, that was crystal clear, but then again, all of them were.  
"There's no need, he'll be safe until we make it to mine." Joly shrugged, but everyone saw the look that he directed at Combeferre, everyone except for Enjolras that is. It was clear what he wanted to say. Enjolras would feel better surrounded by his two best friends while he calmed down a bit. Maybe they would succeed at lowering the law student's guard for a little while just to see how much he was hurting underneath the facade that he was fine.

Seeing Enjolras laying dead on the ground had done a number on their minds, and Bahorel couldn't help the tears that burned his eyes. It was him who had carried the blond and deposited him on the lilo, even if the blond was fighting tooth and nail throughout the whole small trip. Bahorel had still used his superior strength to keep him immobile just before depositing him onto the floating mattress. If he had just complied to Enjolras' wishes, then maybe they wouldn't have suffered such a trauma. They wouldn't have had to see their friend laying motionless, utterly still, completely devoid of life, just next to their feet as if he was nothing but a ragdoll. They wouldn't have had to see Combeferre shaking with frustration as he beat upon the still chest, and nobody would have seen Joly's composure utterly break, frustration easily readable in the dark orbs. But most of all, they wouldn't have seen Enjolras sob his heart out, Combeferre fighting to quell the hysteria.

"Bahorel? Come on, let's go." Feuilly spoke up, his voice as soft as the hand on Bahorel's back.

Bahorel shouldered his bag, watching as Enjolras weakly argued with Combeferre about being fully able to carry his bag because he was completely fine, but the medical student was just telling him to shut up, showing that under no circumstance would he give the bag to the blond. For all his arguments, Enjolras didn't even attempt to grab the bag, apparently he knew that he was still weak from the near death he had just experienced. Even if it was a legitimate death, not near death, just death. Joly kept close to the blond, yet respectfully gave him a bit of a distance, even as the blond swayed a little on his feet every once in a while. Death would apparently make you feel a bit off. Once they reached their respectful cars, Bahorel carelessly sat down, relaxing against the passenger seat as Feuilly slipped in the driving seat and Jehan stretched out in the backseat. They all watched as both Enjolras and Courfeyrac were shepherded in their own backseat by Combeferre, the bespectacled student visibly sighing before slipping into his own seat and pulling out of the parking lot.

* * *

"I'm fine Courf!" Enjolras was already fed up of the attention, and couldn't help but snap as soon as his friend laid yet another hand on his shoulder only five minutes after they had left from the pool. However, the shout was clearly a bad idea, as his abused throat seized up immediately, closing off his airways and promptly dissolving into a coughing fit. Combeferre almost turned, but a fierce glare from Courfeyrac had the medical student turn his eyes back on the road. Enjolras lowered his head between his knees as much as he could, delighting in the hand that rubbed circles into his back while he coughed pathetically, his eyes watering from the lack of oxygen. Once he was done and was only pulling in wheezing breaths, Enjolras allowed Courfeyrac to gently lay him out across the seat, his head pillowed on his friend's lap as the older student gently ran his hands through his friend's hair, knowing that it was a gesture that soothed Enjolras, even though he'd never admit it.

"Is he okay?" Combeferre turned his head towards them just as he stopped at a red light.  
"I'm fine." The words were spoken clearly, the blond having recovered from his ordeal.  
"Courfeyrac?"  
"He seems okay."

Enjolras huffed, giving up on both of his best friends as he shamelessly snuggled in Courfeyrac's lap, the hand going through his locks more than enough to soothe him into sleep. He could feel his lids becoming heavier and heavier, and every blink was becoming longer until he finally fell asleep, exhaustion catching up with him.

"He's asleep." Courfeyrac quietly called out, knowing that Combeferre was barely focusing on the road as it is.  
"How's his breathing?"  
"Regular, so is his heartbeat." Courfeyrac's tone was soft, fingers still carding through the blond's hair.  
"I'm scared because of secondary drowning, Joly was too, told me to watch his breathing until we get there." Combeferre's voice was quiet, and Courfeyrac noticed that he was doing the best he could to avoid any bumps in the road.  
"We won't let him die 'Ferre," Courfeyrac smiled, a laugh escaping his throat as Enjolras shifted, turning on his back and letting one leg slip down from the seat. They fell in comfortable silence then, the only sound being a small snore from the slumbering blond every now and then.

* * *

Joly, Musichetta and Bossuet lived in a quiet street, much to everyone's pleasure. It was not a small house, just spacious enough to suit all of them should such need arise. Parking was no problem, and Combeferre killed the engine before opening the back door, trying to find a way on how to get Enjolras out without waking him. Courfeyrac slid out, laying the blond completely on the seat before snaking his hands underneath Enjolras' shoulders, gently dragging out his friend. Combeferre then put his arms under the blond's knees and shoulders, successfully managing to carry his friend as if he was his newlywed bride.

They were glad that Joly had arrived before everyone, for the doctor had already put new sheets on one of the guest beds, an array of medical instruments spread out across a desk. Thankfully, Courfeyrac, Musichetta and Bossuet were locked in the kitchen, apparently preparing something for everyone. Enjolras didn't even react as they removed his shirt and shoes, leaving the blond in only his swimsuit. If he was awake, Combeferre was sure that the blond would have a light blush on his face, and that his eyes would tighten around the edges, sure signs of the vulnerability he felt when exposed like this in front of his friends. Especially Joly and Combeferre. Being this exposed in front of them meant he was in trouble, and Combeferre couldn't help but snort. The blond was surely in trouble. However, the two doctors didn't say anything, only working together to make sure that Enjolras was not in any danger of secondary drowning, and that he was not in need of a hospital. Joly had been right, he was far more equipped than Combeferre for these kind of things, the statement easily supported by the sheer magnitude of instruments and medicine that the doctor produced. Combeferre was sure that he had seen a sedative in that bag. Joly was quiet as he worked, going over Enjolras inch by inch to make sure that there were no hidden injuries while he could, and keeping track of the blond's temperature as well. Combeferre stood back and observed, stepping in to help when Joly needed to check Enjolras' back. All in all, it was a rather detailed check up and Combeferre was glad, if not slightly worried.

Enjolras had been utterly unresponsive through it all, muscles lax and features relaxed as he allowed them to do as they pleased. He didn't even try to curl in a ball, or whimper, or anything. It was as if they were checking over a dummy, rather than their living, _breathing_ , asleep, friend. Combeferre couldn't help but wonder just how deep the blond was sleeping. Unless he was completely passed out, then that would be a viable explanation..

"He's utterly exhausted, but otherwise fine, nothing wrong with him that I could find. He just needs to catch up on sleep." Joly's calm voice interrupted his thoughts, a smile of reassurance on the doctor's face. It was more than enough to sooth Combeferre's worries.  
"He's been sleeping way less than he tells us for sure." The doctor-to-be frowned, unconsciously running a hand through the golden locks.  
"Given he doesn't know how to swim, I think fear kept him up, rather than the actual need to do something." Joly frowned in worry as well, draping a blanket on Enjolras' somewhat cold frame. Both of them couldn't help but chuckle when the blond curled up under it, leaving only his wild locks visible.  
"Should we leave him alone to rest?" Combeferre was sceptical, and more than a little afraid if he were to be honest.  
"Alone? I don't think that is wise given his airway can still close up at any moment, but we should definitely let him rest." Joly shrugged, a tinge of frustration and even anger making it through his tone.

"I feel angry too, at how he doesn't take care of himself, but this was an accident, no one expected this outcome, so we shouldn't blame anyone except for Enjolras. It was his fault for not telling us he doesn't know how to swim. Of course we shouldn't outright put the blame on him, he'll realise it soon enough." Combeferre smiled a bit, untangling the chlorine-filled golden curls.

"He's an idiot. It's getting tiresome checking him over. I would never leave him to suffer, but having to push medicine in your own friend is not as easy as it looks, especially when said friend is fighting you tooth and nail against it." Joly's admission left a somewhat tense silence hanging in the room, and Combeferre couldn't help but lay a hand on his friend's shoulder.  
"I am sure he's fed up of us checking him over, but it seems that he cannot help but get in trouble, and trouble seems to follow him wherever he goes." Combeferre shrugged, a sad smile pulling at his lips.  
"I just want him to live his years laughing and actually living, not always confined to a bed because of one mishap or another." Joly shook his head before going out of the room, knowing without question that Combeferre would remain behind, ever the guardian angel for their young friend.

* * *

The others were all waiting in the living room when Joly left the bedroom. His eyebrow rose, yet he wasn't shocked, only amused, at their expectant look. Musichetta and Bossuet had handed out snacks and laid out a tray full of drinks, knowing that everyone needed something to munch on in order to get over the shock of what had happened. Jehan, forever inspired, had a piece of crumbled paper in his hand, and Joly's heart squeezed when he noticed that it was utterly blank. In his worry, the young poet could not pronounce a single word, neither on paper nor by mouth, for when he saw the doctor, Joly saw his mouth open and close a couple of times, before closing tightly, desperation crystal clear in his glazed eyes. It was at times like this when Grantaire usually put down the bottle and instead threw an arm around Jehan's shoulders, mumbling some words in his ears in order to get him up and running again, but this time, it wasn't Grantaire doing the comforting, it was Feuilly, the fan-maker clinging to the poet as if his life depended on it. It was all rather cute if Joly were to be honest. Jehan needed the physical comfort in order to be brought back to Earth.

Grantaire was the worst off. He and Bahorel were the only ones that remained seated, clearly having no strength to remain upright after everything that had happened. Then again, it could have been that as lost as they were in their thoughts, they had not heard his light footsteps. Joly couldn't help but frown. Bahorel was just gazing off into nothing, clearly in a bit of shock, yet nothing serious. He seemed aware of what was going on, his head snapping up as soon as Joly cleared his throat purposefully. Though his eyes were glazed over with held back tears, and a slight tremor kept him from being completely still, it would all pass, leaving no harm behind.

Grantaire on the other hand… The drunkard was staring at one corner of the rug, not a shred of focus visible in his eyes. He was shaking hard, not a single atom of his being managing to stay still out of sheer nervousness and guilt. His hands were tightly gripping his hair, the dark short locks horribly twisted between the calloused fingers. His breathing was choppy, and upon pressing two fingers under Grantaire's jaw, Joly was not shocked to feel the pulse that was thundering underneath. Grantaire had not even reacted.

"We tried to shake him out of it, he isn't reacting to anything," Eponine spoke up, obviously worried.  
"That's because he's in some sort of a damned shock Eponine. You couldn't have done anything." Joly took a breath and pulled back his hand, bringing it down sharply on Grantaire's cheek, and causing the man's head to turn to the other side and a neck to crack. Everyone winced in sympathy.  
"THE HELL JOLY!" Grantaire was definitely back to normal, rubbing at his sore cheek as he glared at the ever so calm doctor.  
"Try to spit less, it spreads germs around." Joly wrinkled his nose, wiping his hands on his swimming trunks before he stood up again from where he had crouched in front of Grantaire.

The drunkard looked as if he was about to say something before his eyes widened, face paling once more.

"Is Enjolras okay?" And just like that, the tension returned, suffocating the room and replacing all the oxygen.  
"He's fine for now, just sleeping, he needs his rest, he's exhausted. Given no complications occur, he should be completely alright." Joly shrugged, smiling a little when he felt more than heard the collective sigh of relief that seemed to emanate from the group.  
"Can we see him?" Cosette spoke up from where she was sitting on Marius' lap, their hands entangled together.  
"Of course, just stay quiet and let him rest, God knows when he'll willingly fall asleep again." Joly threw an arm around Musichetta, the girl sinking into his side as if knowing that he wanted the comfort.

* * *

Combeferre couldn't say he was shocked when all the others filed in, anxiety and worry apparent on each and every face. He had been running his hands though the blond's locks, comforting himself by the rise and fall of his friend's chest. As soon as they all entered, the spacious room felt a bit over-crowded, but they all managed to find comfortable positions on the cushions that Joly had ever so kindly deposited on the floor. They were quiet, only the hushed sound of their breathing breaking the dominating silence. It was a comfortable silence, one that comforted rather than made you feel awkward, one that seemed to wrap you in its silent blanket and cocooned you from your thoughts, giving you momentary respite from the stress of life. Watching Enjolras breathe was just like that. It soothed the amis, gave them something to focus on. It was something little, overlooked right until someone was on the brink of death, and you find yourself wishing that the small rise and fall would never cease again, because nobody was sure if they would live if that happened. They would exist for sure, but not live. Not without Enjolras. He was the heart of the group, its very soul. His passion, determination, charisma, it all brought the group to life. If that was suddenly removed.. A group without its soul won't survive for much won't it?

"He looks so small." Marius' eyes were wide, pupil almost overcoming the bright blue. Combeferre frowned. Never in his life had he thought he'd describe Enjolras as small. Sure, the blond was relatively short compared to some of the other Amis, and he wasn't thick or bulky with muscles, but almost stick thin. He had a small stature, but a big heart. His passion bled through every pore of his being, automatically enlarging the young man. At only 22 years old, the blond had always been fervent in everything he took part of. Sure, he was hard-headed, yet the same stubbornness got him attention in every room he walked into. Every head would automatically turn towards him, ears ready to listen to the emotion-filled words that poured from his mouth. He always had a big presence, one that filled you to the very brim. But now, looking at the young boy curled underneath the sheet, he really did look small. The way he dipped his head back, as if seeking the comfort that 'Ferre's fingers provided at the same time as he curled further into himself, was almost adorable.

The sudden movement took them all by surprise. Enjolras uncurled, stretching almost cat-like before extending all his limbs across the single bed, leaving only one hand to lay on his stomach. Combeferre almost snorted as the untameable curls fell in Enjolras' eyes once again. The blond's mouth was slightly open, tiny snores escaping the teen as he slept on, unaware of the amused glances of his friends. Unaware that unconsciously, the guilt that Grantaire and Bahorel harboured in their heart was slowly melting away by the heart warming display.

* * *

Two hours passed by as if in a trance. The silence had been broken about an hour ago, when Courfeyrac deemed it good to crack a joke, causing laughs to break out across the room. From then on, conversation had continued, filling the previously smothering silence. However, they were still quiet, respecting the fact that their friend was asleep more than anything. Combeferre had abandoned his post, finding a place on the floor next to the others. Consequence of this, nobody noticed when the serene expression on Enjolras' face was marred by a small frown. His eyes moved restlessly beneath their lids, clearly attempting to see something that no one else could ever envision. He shifted continuously, rustling the sheets in the process as broken whimpers tumbled from his lips.

Courfeyrac, who had been resting his back against the bed, startled when something smacked him on the back of his head. Given that he was next to Enjolras' hand and he had just said a stupid joke, the dark-haired man couldn't help but laugh, fully prepared to boast on how his bad jokes had woken up the blond. He turned, a grin already spreading from ear to ear, before he let it fall just as quickly. A fine sheen of sweat shone on Enjolras' skin and the blond was tousling his head from side to side, clearly disturbed by something. Ever the coddler, Courfeyrac immediately slipped behind Enjolras' head, passing soothing fingers on the blond's scalp as Joly and Combeferre flanked each side, both attempting to wake him up.

However, the blond seemed too engrossed in his nightmare. No matter how gentle or rough they shook him, there was no waking him. He thrashed, almost throwing both of them off in his fervent attempts to get away from their restricting arms. Joly shared a worried look with Combeferre when the blond's breath picked up, his chest rising and falling erratically as he struggled against them in vain. Undecipherable mumbles tumbled from his rosy lips, too low to be understood, yet one could not miss the panic and terror that they carried. Combeferre frowned in worry, one hand unconsciously resting on the blond's chest, as if hoping that the familiar touch would provide comfort. If anything, it only set Enjolras off even more, a slight wheezing accompanying each breath.

"'Ferre don't touch his chest, Courf keep his head down, try to stop him from injuring himself further. This should knock him out of it." Joly was all business, his tone making it clear that no arguments were to be made. Combeferre retracted his arm as if he had been burned, and they all watched in silent fascination as Joly kneeled on the bed, pushing down at least half his weight on Enjolras' sternum. Combeferre couldn't help the grimace as the doctor rubbed mercilessly, their goal finally reached as the previously sleeping blond spluttered, pale blue eyes snapping open and skimming the room, obvious confusion making it past the usually well-built walls.

"Enjolras?" Courfeyrac pushed the golden curls from his friend's face, leaving a hand to lie on his brow.  
"Courf? What's going on?" Enjolras frowned, laying totally still under all of their gazes. The others were now all gathered around the bed, their eyes set on the very confused blond.  
"That depends, what do you remember last?" Joly's tone was soft, yet Combeferre detected the first traces of panic in the doctor's voice.  
"We were at the pool, and for some reason we came back early. Don't get why you are all watching me sleep though. Or why you're holding me down." Enjolras struggled against them again, attempting to sit up. Combeferre loosened his grip when he felt the feeble attempts, and the blond sat up, finally relaxing as he came eye to eye with them.  
"You were asleep on the deck chair, and we were joking around and Bahorel put you on the lilo. You were fine until for some reason you fell off. You actually drowned, we had to revive you." Combeferre's voice broke, but the doctor-to-be quickly coughed to regain control. "You'll probably remember what happened later, your body is still recovering from being deprived of air."

Joly frowned worriedly as Enjolras gaped, his mouth opening and closing like that of a fish. The blond's hair was matted to the clammy skin, and the doctor put his palm on Enjy's neck, discreetly noting the rapid pulse that albeit weak, thundered underneath the pale skin. It wasn't much of a shock to feel the cold skin underneath his palm.

"Enjolras?" Combeferre seemed to catch on pretty quickly, running a soothing hand up and down Enjolras' back.

"You're saying I died? I died because of a prank you deemed appropriate to play despite the fact I begged you all to leave me alone?" Enjolras wasn't really angry, but Grantaire and Bahorel still inched back, guilt painting their features. "You're supposed to be my friends! I trust you for a reason, and that reason is not killing me by drowning, _again_!" By now everyone could see that the blond was shaking, tremors running up and down his spine as he panted for the air that seemed to be running out.

"Again? What do you mean again?" Courfeyrac caught the word that seemed to rock their world from right under their feet.

"Why do you think I never went swimming with you? I detest the water! And there is a reason you know, I drowned when I was young, nobody wanted to help poor little Enjolras! He's the golden boy, he's smart, he surely knows how to swim, he's just crying wolf! Of course, when they had to carry my lifeless body from the bottom of the private pool, they all noticed I wasn't crying wolf, or trying to attract attention to myself. I ended up a week at the hospital because of secondary drowning. None of you have any idea how scary it is waking up with a tube breathing for you and wires going in and out of you and everyone is poking and prodding and cuddling and apologising and it's all too much and there is no air and I can't breathe, why can't I breathe? 'Ferre? What's going on? Why is everyone crowding? Just leave me alone! I don't want to be prodded at again... Please!"

The others were left breathless. The way he had started his rant, so angry, so furious, immensely frustrated… All those feelings faded away one by one, leaving behind only raw fear and panic, a little child seeking comfort from his friends, his family, not by blood, but his family none the less. Combeferre stared at his best friend as if he had grown another head, barely reacting until the blond burrowed himself in Combeferre's shoulder, tears leaking into his shirt. Everyone stayed quiet, listening to the hiccupping breaths that gently faded into little pants. Combeferre frowned, noting the cold and clammy skin that Enjolras was sporting.

"Everybody back off, give him some air." Joly snapped at the others, and Courfeyrac scrambled off the bed, leaving only the two medical students around the still hysteric Enjolras. "Enjolras? Listen to me, you feel like shit, I know, that's because you're going into shock, I need you to breathe, okay? Match your breathing with Combeferre. You need to calm down or you'll pass out, and I will have no choice but to poke and prod." His voice was low and soothing, yet one could not miss the authoritative tone that lay hovering beneath the care and worry.

Silence settled around them like a blanket, only the quiet encouragements and the hitched breathing filling the room. Enjolras was clearly battling with the shock that was trying to drag him under, and Combeferre silently ran his hand through the blond's locks, knowing that it was a soothing gesture. After what seemed like an hour, yet was really only a couple of minutes, Enjolras was finally taking in deep breaths, not even flinching when Joly listened to his lungs again before handing the now tired blond a glass of water.

Grantaire watched, apprehension clear in the way he clenched his jaw, worry and guilt coursing through him. His hands itched to wrap around a bottle, to drown himself in liquor, to forget this ever happened. Yet he didn't want to forget, he didn't want to be in a haze while Enjolras was battling to keep up his seemingly permanent mask. Everyone knew that Enjolras wouldn't want them to see him like that, yet nobody seemed to be able to tear away their gazes. It was undoubtedly a trauma for their young leader to not remembering dying, but seeing him like this, seeing him breathe.. It was a selfish indulgence that they could not live without.

"Drink something Enj, do you think you can stomach some food?" Combeferre's soft baritone seemed to slice through the room, even though the murmured words were only meant for the blond cradled in his arms.  
"I don't want to, just lemme wash." The voice scared them. It was slightly weak, definitely hoarse, but the mere exhaustion that tinged the words was surprising.  
"Can you manage on your own?" Joly whispered the question in Enjolras' ear, making sure that nobody else heard.  
"I'm fine Joly. Not going to die in the shower." The blond huffed as he weakly pushed the two doctors off, standing up all on his own. He was slightly wobbly at first, consequence of getting used to a vertical position again.

Combeferre almost helped him, but he kept back, knowing that Enjolras wouldn't appreciate the coddling, especially in front of the others. Combeferre could never understand why Enjolras deemed it a weakness to admit he wasn't completely fine, but to each their own, and the bespectacled student let his friend be.

"Your bag is in the bathroom, towels are under the sink. There are a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, but you can just go shirtless if you want." Joly grinned at their unofficial leader, and Enjolras smiled back as he slipped out, seemingly as graceful as he ever was.  
"Joly?" Bahorel spoke up, anxiety clear in his voice.  
"He was just in shock, I was expecting it to be honest, it's normal. He just needs to eat and rest, he'll be completely fine, it's just the trauma making him seem so off. I'd like to keep an eye on him for now though, you can all stay here if you wish, we'll do a movie marathon." Joly shrugged, packing up his supplies.  
"I can look out for him if you want us out of your hair." Combeferre's voice was slightly muffled by Courfeyrac's jacket, as the other member of the trio had sought physical comfort in the shape of cuddles by the good doctor.  
"I have no doubt you can 'Ferre, but a few more sets of eyes won't hurt, and we were planning to spend the day at the pool. Given the circumstances, why not spend it here?" Joly reassured his friend as best as he could.

* * *

Enjolras leaned his head against the shower wall, letting a sigh escape him in the quiet confines of the bathroom. Fear still plagued him, crushing his heart and squeezing his lungs until he couldn't breathe. The water ran down his body in rivulets, becoming colder as time passed. Cold like the panic that had his stomach in knots even though he could breathe just fine now, even if he wasn't drowning anymore. Literally of course. Figuratively? He was way past the saving point. Fear, panic, apprehension, anxiety, self-pity, self-hate… They all swarmed inside him, battling each other, battling him, dragging him under the metaphorical waves until their sheer force defeated him, drowned out his powerful voice until nobody could hear him, until nobody could hear the passion that he spoke with. They drowned him as far as the deepest abysses of the Earth. There was nothing he could do, nothing to win the war of emotions that raged inside him. None of them could dominate, they had to always fight, depending on each other as much as they loathed each other. It was a somewhat normal thing, to refer to emotions as _them_ , and Enjolras sighed, preferring to just not feel or think or muse on anything at the time being. He had enough things on his mind without his past suddenly resurfacing, laid out for everyone to see. He had not wanted them to know, it just spilled out, as if impulse had led him to acting without thinking. It had felt good to remove the bulky weight from his chest, to relieve himself from at least one of his burdens, yet to display his weakness like that… Enjolras squinted, spluttering against another wave of emotion. Not even Combeferre had known about his death experience, it had taken a toll on the medical student for sure, to not know he had come close to never knowing his best friend. At least that is what Combeferre considered him right? A best friend. A friend at least. Of course he did, and so did Courfeyrac, and even Joly who had ever so kindly offered his own house for their accommodation simply because Enjolras was too much of a coward to learn how to keep his head above the waters.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Enjolras could still hear Joly telling him to control his breathing, and he did his best to heed the advice, even if he felt as if he'd never breathe again. He needed to sort out his thoughts, and preferably not think for a while, the stress was making a headache appear right behind his eyes. As the seconds ticked by, the blond slowly regulated his breathing again, and quickly washed the chlorine away from his being before pulling on the comfortable, slightly over-sized, sweat pants. The tee-shirt settled snuggly against his chest, hiding the bruise that was starting to form on his chest. Undoubtedly from the amount of pounding Combeferre and Joly must have done on his heart to revive him. Better have a bruise than be dead. Still, the odd discolouring was vivid, too obvious against his pale skin, and every part of him itched to cover it, to hide it from everyone's sight, even his own, just to pretend that it did not exist.

* * *

His hair was still damp when he slid out of the bathroom, bare feet padding against the floor as he made his way to the living room. Judging from the laughs and noise, everyone was gathered around the television, presumably waiting on him to start a movie or something. There was an empty space on the sofa, and Combeferre beckoned him over, running a critical eye over his frame. Enjolras felt dread filling him when the laughter suddenly evaporated from the air, leaving only a tense, interrogative silence in its wake.

"Why didn't you tell us you don't know how to swim?" Combeferre was gentle, yet there was something else in his voice, something that told Enjolras he was not getting out of this.  
"I do know how to swim, I'm just scared of the water." It was the truth after all. Enjolras did know how to swim, but the crippling fear that seized his limbs every time he got dunked in the water was enough to render him completely immobile, incapable of floating.  
"Why didn't you tell us you were scared then?" Combeferre's hand fell to rest on Enjolras' knee, rubbing through the material to offer some comfort. Despite the roundabout way in which Enjolras was answering their questions, it was clear that 'Ferre was not about to give up.  
"You'd just forget about the plans and adjust them to my comfort, it's not fair on you, so it's better to suck up my stupid fears and just stay away from the water." Enjolras shrugged, thinking that if they saw his meltdown earlier, then there was no problem speaking up now.

"Should I mention your _stupid fear_ got you killed?" There was a vein practically throbbing in Combeferre's forehead now. "You weren't injured, we couldn't just patch you up, you were dead! You had no pulse, you weren't breathing, I had to perform CPR on you! I had to pound on your chest, hoping that Joly wouldn't have to deliver another rescue breath because you'll breathe on your own again! I was scared I lost you Enjolras! It was selfish of you to think it would affect us if we went bowling or to the pool! I had to carry your lifeless body, thinking that we had noticed too late that you were drowning right under our noses, and that a stupid prank had led to this group completely dismantling! Did you actually think Grantaire and Bahorel would live with the guilt of having practically murdered you? Did you actually think I would live without having to pester you about your wellbeing? What about Courfeyrac, Gavroche, Marius, Joly? Being scared of water or drowning is nothing to be ashamed of, everyone is afraid of something Enjolras, and believe it or not, you cannot be a marble statue like everyone oh so kindly calls you!" Enjolras opened his mouth to protest, to stop his tirade, but one glare from Combeferre completely shut him up again. "No, you don't get to whip up some ridiculous excuse in this, you don't get to play down our worries and your damned death, because you can't. It is a trauma waking up with a tube going down your throat, but it is a much larger trauma knowing that consequence of dragging my best friend out to have fun, I got you dead. You have no idea how scary it was, and I sure as hell bruised you, I just wanted to see you breathing again. You were in the car with us, and you went into a coughing fit was so bad it almost had me take you to the hospital! I thought you were going through a secondary drowning, and you don't even remember that!" Combeferre broke off, dragging in a big breath in hope of keeping a reign on his emotions.

"Combeferre..." The name was but a breathless whimper, and everyone kept back as the two friends embraced, as if seeking comfort from the mere physical touch. Not bearing to be left out, Courfeyrac joined the embrace, wrapping his arms around his two best friends as if trying to keep them with him. The girls, all emotional after the events of the day, joined the hug as well, wriggling their small frames until they were on each side of the blond. Little by little, they all joined the hug, wrapping up Enjolras in a cocoon of warmth and friendship that had him practically filled to the brim with love and affection.

Wordlessly, someone put in a DVD, and they all settled on the sofas and the floor, putting their unofficial leader in the middle of their little nest. Of course, Combeferre and Courfeyrac took his sides, keeping the blond sandwiched. Joly whispered a quiet protest, telling them to let him breathe, before curling up against Musichetta and Bossuet, the trio fitting together like jigsaw pieces. After everybody had found a comfortable position, Marius pressed play, and the opening credits of 'Pirates of the Caribbean' rolled. Totally engrossed in the film, Enjolras didn't notice Eponine leaving the house in order to fetch her little brother from school. He also barely noticed when Combeferre fell asleep, his head resting on the blond's shoulder. It was a comforting weight, and Enjolras couldn't help but smile when he felt the tension ooze out of Combeferre, the latter's worries soothed for the time being. He was of course aware of people randomly resting a palm against his limbs, as if assuring themselves he was still there before settling down again. He was fairly sure it was Jehan that currently combed Enjolras' hair with his fingers, the slight scratch against his scalp relaxing the blond even more. He was also pretty sure that it was Marius who kept squeezing his shoulder every now and then, even if the brunette would return to cuddling with Cosette a mere second later.

They were half way through the second movie when Eponine came back in, Gavroche towing his school bag behind her. The 11-year-old boy was grinning, completely dishevelled from a day at school, looking as if he lived on the streets rather than at a loving home. Everyone shouted greetings, used to the boy's presence in their midst. He made to join them, but Eponine's strict glare was enough to make him step back, a guilty smirk on his face as he toed his shoes off and stridden into the kitchen, presumably to eat something and start his homework. Despite being rather rogue for a kid, Eponine never let him go to school without making sure that his homework was all done.

It was all quiet for an hour before a frustrated shout reached their ears. Enjolras chuckled softly, identifying the sound as the kid being frustrated. He rose slowly, making sure that Courfeyrac took the task of pillowing Combeferre's head before striding to the kitchen, pushing back the vertigo that came with being upright after such a long time.

Gavroche was seated at the head of the table, books scattered all around him as he pulled at his dirty blond locks. Enjolras couldn't help the smile when he recognized the math book. Gavroche had always hated the subject with a passion, leaning more towards philosophical subjects or history and social studies. It was almost an agreement between them. Enjolras would calmly explain how to work out the sum, giving a brief explanation, only enough to prod the teen into the right direction, and Gavroche would approach it more calmly, succeeding more often than not. This time however, it appeared that the teen was not stuck in one sum, but rather the whole topic, looking close to tearing his hair right from his scalp as he stared at the numerous numbers and formulae. Wordlessly, the oldest of the two sunk into one of the chairs, scooting a bit to find a comfortable position before calmly starting to explain, the boy's face brightening as he understood the dilemma that was math.

* * *

Several hours, snacks, bickering, and arguments later, all of the Les Amis, including Gavroche, were huddled around the sofa, the air conditioner keeping them cool even when they cuddled together. Courfeyrac had taken over the DVD player, and all of them ended up watching Lord of the Rings. Enjolras sighed, his eyes continuously closing as drowsiness took its hold on him. Despite having fallen asleep for more than a few hours, the emotional package that he had unloaded that day made him uncharacteristically tired, and considering how Combeferre had subtly nudged Enjolras' head on his shoulder, the doctor-to-be was expecting the blond to fall asleep any second.

Grantaire seemed to have relaxed, a bottle of beer tightly grasped between his fingers, and Enjolras gave him a small smile, knowing that the drunkard was filled with guilt, and only their presence was keeping him from going to drown his sorrows in a bottle. Their presence. It was weird. It gave all of them a warm, pleasant feeling. Their antics were all accepted, and even if personalities contrasted and fights happened more regularly than not, everybody had each other's back. It was a big, dysfunctional, family. Not by blood, yet a family nonetheless.

It was a rare moment, for all of them to be gathered in silence, only the drone of the hobbits talking with Gandalf filling the air. A small smile graced Enjolras' features, and after soaking up the image to imprint it into his mind forever, he allowed his eyes to flutter close.

* * *

Combeferre couldn't help his own smile when he felt Enjolras rest a bit more heavily upon his shoulder. The blond was undoubtedly utterly spent, and Combeferre relished those moments when it was as if studying had been put aside, and only the teen side of his friend came out. More times than not, this side of Enjolras was cheerful, sarcastic, ready to spend a good time, yet today, Enjolras was quiet, almost vulnerable as he slept on, surrendered by his friends.

Nobody thought about leaving that night. Of course, they retired to several beds and couches, and Joly had been generous enough to leave Combeferre and Courfeyrac a mattress next to Enjolras' bed so that they could spend an eye on him. Getting the blond to the bed without waking him was a smooth operation. Bahorel once again picked him up, immediately stopping when Enjolras groaned and opened his eyes, only to relax when he noticed what was going on. A murmured thanks, only meant for Bahorel's ears, filled the bulky man with warmth, melting away the guilt that still resided there before Enjolras unconsciously snuggled into him, asleep once again. He had expected the blond to be afraid, petrified even, or pissed at him, yet this was a totally different outcome. Nobody could help their tired smiles as they all retired.

The night passed without a hitch, and the les amis slept peacefully, recovering from the ordeal of the day.

* * *

Waking up to a cold, circular thing on his chest was not something Enjolras ever dreamed of happening, especially when the last thing he remembered was falling asleep at Joly's. Unfortunately, most sleepovers happened when they needed to keep an eye on some injury he had acquired, yet they always made sure he was conscious for any procedures, especially considering how uncomfortable he was with their prodding. Unless it was critical. Then all of his nervousness, along with his dignity, was swept under the carpet as they fought to keep him anchored to their world. However, all his limbs were still attached, and Enjolras couldn't feel any extraordinary pain from any particular region, nor could he feel the usual effects left by pain killers. Confusion continued to wreck his brain, more questions popping up as he searched for answers.

When the cold metal pressed on one of the bruises left by Combeferre's compressions Enjolras couldn't help the groan, dull pain making him attempt to turn on his side. Strong, yet familiar hands stopped the motion before it even started, and Enjolras frowned, forcing open heavy lids and blinking repeatedly to clear his vision.

"What the hell, Joly." His voice was rough, and Joly rose an eyebrow.  
"Good morning to you too." Sarcasm dripped from Combeferre's voice, and Enjolras was suddenly aware of the fingers gently carding through his hair, and the fact that he was laying on his best friend's leg.  
"It's too early for this, you know." Enjolras quirked an eyebrow of his own, breaking off into a small cough, dry throat protesting its use.  
"It's 9:30am. Drink some of this." Combeferre gave him a slight push, and Enjolras sat up completely, accepting the glass of milk that Joly had pushed into his hand.  
"I could have sworn I went to sleep with a shirt." Enjolras decided to ignore how late he had woken up, and instead took in his surroundings, the lack of coverage on his chest immediately capturing his attention.  
"Joly had to remove it to listen to your lungs, you didn't even stir, and we didn't have the heart to wake you." Combeferre smiled, one palm cupping the blond's cheek in a gesture of fondness.  
"How do you feel?" Joly had gone behind him now, the cold end of the stethoscope pushing against his back.  
"I'm fine, Joly." No need to worry them, maybe he'd get out of the coddling and fretting. It had been okay yesterday, he was still under a slight shock and needed the comfort, but he wanted things to be normal today.  
"Let's try this again. How do you feel, Enjolras?" Joly's tone was completely neutral, yet Enjolras felt himself slightly tense at the dark undertone.  
"Muscles are sore, bruises hurt, nothing else." Enjolras shrugged, not protesting against Joly's ministrations and opening his mouth when asked to.  
"Relax a bit, you're always tense, no wonder your muscles are sore." Joly hummed, critical eyes examining the blond's throat before gentle fingers probed at his neck, pressuring slightly before letting go.  
"You'd be tense as well if you woke up to your friend tracking your heartbeat." Enjolras couldn't help the quip.  
"Better than a stranger." Joly smiled before ruffling the blond's hair, relishing in the adorable pout that marred Enjolras' face for a brief moment. "Go take a wash, you're completely fine, Combeferre can keep an eye on you for the next two days."  
"The next two days? You just said I'm fine!" Enjolras protested a bit loudly, sounding just like a petulant child.  
"You drowned Enjolras, and you will let Combeferre check on you at least twice a day, or I'll keep you here." Joly's tone was resolute, and Enjolras uncharacteristically shrunk back, nodding mutely as Joly smiled and left the room.  
"Courfeyrac went home to get you a change of clothes, he should be back soon, then we can go. You can either stay at ours, or I'll come over every day, which is better?" Combeferre was calm, the very picture of friendliness as he threw an arm around Enjolras' shoulders.  
"I'll just stay over, if you don't mind." Enjolras was oddly subdued, almost shy as he subtly leaned away.  
"Enjolras? What's going on?" Combeferre's concern was obvious, his eyes slightly narrowed as he attempted to catch his friend's gaze.  
"Why is Joly so adamant on having people check on me? I get that it scared you, but isn't this all a bit over the top?" Enjolras was as honest as possible, blue eyes slightly wide as he gazed at his best friend.  
"Because Enjolras, there is a risk of secondary drowning, and that is worse than actually drowning, because it is not obvious unless you know what to look for." Combeferre ruffled the blond's hair, letting his hand rub circles in the blond's back.  
"That makes sense." The words were muffled, as the blond had buried himself in 'Ferre's chest.  
"It does, doesn't it?" They both huffed out laughs. "I'm sorry about the bruises Enjy."

Enjolras turned slightly, hiding his discoloured chest from view.

"It's okay, at least I can feel the pain from the bruises." Enjolras smiled, tapping Combeferre's leg before standing up, stretching every joint in his body. Despite the slight ache, finally untangling himself felt good, and a groan rumbled when his neck cracked loudly, making Combeferre wince.  
"Don't do that again Enjolras, anytime you are scared of something or don't feel good, you need to tell us, we're not mind readers, and I don't want to lose you just because you happened to be a stubborn asshole." Combeferre was serious, all traces of humour gone from his expression as he gazed at the blond.

Enjolras didn't respond, not with words, but his expression immediately softened, guilt swimming in the blue orbs. He nodded briefly, unconsciously scratching the back of his neck. Just then, the doorbell sounded, Courfeyrac's cheery voice immediately filling the corridors. The two friends went out to greet him, and Enjolras didn't object when the brunette hugged him tight, relishing the physical comfort before letting go.

"Go wash, you stink."

Enjolras huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he left to grasp a few minutes alone in the shower.

* * *

The jeans and tee fitted like a second skin, and Enjolras released a sigh as he combed his hair, the unruly curls falling a bit fashionably over his brow. Better than having a frizzy bed head. He didn't protest when Joly slid a plate in front of him, a silent order to eat it all in his eyes when Enjolras opened his mouth to object against the huge amount of food. He was surprised to see that the others were still there, laying around on couches as they chatted. Marius and Cosette sat by him, the couple gently fussing but not overstepping their boundaries. He didn't protest when Marius squeezed his shoulders, hands lingering for a few minutes before he gently slid away, only to have Cosette replace him, the girl gently carding his hair. Enjolras couldn't help the small chuckle when he was wrapped up in a protective embrace right after finishing the plate. Sometimes these two were more loving then the whole group combined.

Enjolras detangled himself from the couple before going to the living room, only to be seized by the whole group, each person making sure to be in direct contact with him. However, their crowding wasn't very much welcome, and despite himself, Enjolras moved away, gulping in some air once he was once again at arm's distance away from them.

"Enj?" The question came from Gavroche.  
"I'm fine Gavroche, just don't want people crowding around me at the moment." Enjolras sighed, throwing an apologetic look at his friends.  
"'Ferre take him home, make sure he doesn't overwork himself." Joly put an arm around Musichetta, resting a bit on her.  
"I'm still in the room you know." Enjolras huffed, irritation bubbling in his chest when he heard the barely smothered laughter of his so called friends.  
"You're all filling my living room with germs, so you didn't need to point that out." Joly jokingly said, but everybody caught his cringe when he mentioned the germs.  
"Come on Enjy, we promise we won't talk about you as if you're not in the room." Combeferre was still grinning when he threw an arm around Enjolras' shoulders, Courfeyrac doing the same thing from the other side so as to sandwich the younger one between them.  
"Sure you won't." The murmured words were ignored as they steered the blond to the door, laughs echoing in the corridor.  
"Thanks for everything Joly!" Combeferre's voice echoed in the household before the door slammed close behind all of the les amis, leaving only the occupants of the house inside.

The large group didn't hang out much after that. After several other jokes and just assuring themselves that Enjolras was truly fine, they all left to their cars, leaving the blond to finally relax in the presence of his two best friends. Courfeyrac smiled when he saw the blond melt in the car seat, a groan rumbling in his throat.

"You hanging in there?"  
"I'm fine Courfeyrac, let's just go, I'm tired of doing nothing." Enjolras frowned, his nose slightly crinkling in annoyance.  
"You're resting Enjy, not working, or writing, or reading, just watch TV or scroll through facebook like a normal person does in summer." Combeferre's tone was stern, yet a playful grin lit his features when he saw Enjolras glare at the ceiling of the car.  
"But 'Ferre!"  
"NO BUTS." Combeferre cut his friend off before the tirade started, knowing that this would be a long argument.  
"I can't just sit doing nothing but stare at a screen all day!" Enjolras was downright whining, and Courfeyrac stuffed his face in his shirt to stifle his laughter.  
"You can and you will Enjolras! You don't want Joly to come sedate you, don't you?" The threat of the needle worked perfectly, as the blond suddenly paled, blue eyes wide open.  
"You wouldn't."  
"You know I would."  
"You're supposed to be my friend!"  
"That's exactly why I'll do it."

The friendly banter continued on even after they were settled in Combeferre's and Courfeyrac's apartment, and even while they were watching old re-runs of Graceland, and only then did the topic change on how much Mike Warren actually looked like their friend. Of course, Enjolras found this annoying, yet he couldn't help but laugh, relaxing in the couch as Combeferre's fingers carded through his hair yet again. Of course, he vehemently protested when Combeferre went to do his check up, yet despite all of his grumbling, he complied, just relishing the presence of his two best friends as they laughed at nonsense and just silently rejoiced the fact that their group had remained whole, touched yet not claimed by death, living life as they should be.

Young, wild, and free.

* * *

 **Hey guys :) This was a bit of a long one shot, sorry for that, may have gotten a bit carried away in some scenes. If you made it till here, hooray for you! I really hope you liked this. Regarding mistakes and such, I am sure I missed a lot, but I am going through a lot of shit at the moment, so I really am not in the right mindset to proof-read, even if I did my best.**

 **This may have a second chapter when I am inspired, of Grantaire getting Enjolras over his fear, yet it is complete for the moment c=**

 **I have a couple more one shots coming up when I catch a whiff of free time, because I am busy as hell at this moment.. Uploading this at nearly midnight. Anyway, stay tuned for more one shots of various fandoms! c=**

 **Looking forward to your feedback =)**

 **Disclaimer : I do not own Les Miserables, it belongs solely to Victor Hugo and I am only borrowing the characters. I am not making money in anyway by posting this story here.**

 **-Chrisii**


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